


Day 20: Poker Night (five aces)

by chiralchaos



Series: Turkstober 2020 [13]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gambling, Gen, Turkstober (Compilation of FFVII), Wall Market (Compilation of FFVII)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:27:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27125179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiralchaos/pseuds/chiralchaos
Summary: “I want the dog.”For all his professionalism, Tseng blinks. He doesn’t frown, he doesn’t open his mouth, most importantly he doesn’t even look over at Rufus, but he does blink, and on anyone else that wouldn’t mean anything but on Tseng it translates roughly to“What the fuck, sir?"It's Friday Night, it's Wall Market, and Rufus Shinra doesn't lose at poker.
Series: Turkstober 2020 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965964
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19
Collections: Turkstober 2020





	Day 20: Poker Night (five aces)

“What can I say, you’ve wiped me out,”

In the corner of a hazy bar in Wall Market two men sit, drinks, cards and plastic chips between them. One is large and charismatic, gold tooth flashing when he laughs, shades covering his eyes even in the dimly lit building.

The other … is Rufus Shinra.

Tseng is accompanying the President’s son, silent and obedient behind the blonde’s shoulder, while Gold Tooth has two burly henchmen on guard behind him, as well as a spiny black dog on a leather leash sat at his feet, clearly just an empty threat of a creature judging by how underfed and neglected it looks. The opposing sides have been gathered around the table for several hours already and the chips have not been in Rufus’s favour.

“The gun.” 

Rufus raises an eyebrow and cocks his head. Gold Tooth nods towards the weapon lying at the blonde’s elbow. “You’re outta chips,” he continues, “But why don’t we up the stakes? I want that gun.”

Rufus smiles.

“This old thing?” he says, pretending he couldn’t care less for it (but oh, he really could). He puts his hand on the grip and slides it forward to the middle of the table, smile not dropping. His smile doesn’t drop because he doesn’t lose, not when it counts at least. He notices one of his opponent’s henchmen raise his eyebrows, unable to hide how impressed he is at seeing the weapon at stake.

“And what about you?” Gold Tooth asks. Rufus considers him a while, eyes narrowing, before he looks down to his side.

“I want the dog.”

For all his professionalism, Tseng blinks. He doesn’t frown, he doesn’t open his mouth, most importantly he doesn’t even look over at Rufus, but he does blink, and on anyone else that wouldn’t mean anything but on Tseng it translates roughly to _“What the fuck, sir?”_

The man playing opposite Rufus is equally baffled, and he frowns deeply, looking almost angry, as if Rufus is playing him.

“You want this?” he asks incredulously, nudging the creature across the floor. Its ears flatten and it bows its head submissively, and Rufus has never seen a creature look so darn downtrodden. He’d feel sorry for it if he weren’t so fascinated by the glow in its eyes, the colour of its fur.

“So,” Rufus says, cracking his neck and leaning his elbows on the table, “Let’s play.”

*

It’s different playing with stakes that actually matter, and the thrill is exhilarating. They play with Gold Tooth’s cards, a personalised deck, each card having an intricate black chocobo printed on the corners, and seeing the Shinra weapon on the table has attracted quite the audience around the table. With exactly the turn in his luck he was waiting for tonight, Rufus’s eyes light up across the five cards in his hand, one more than Gold Tooth has. He lays them down with a flourish.

“Straight,” he says smugly, and he sits back in his seat with a smirk. The crowd around the table hushes, and Gold Tooth lets out a hearty sigh.

“Oh Shinra …” he says, his sigh tailing off into a laugh. He lays his own four cards down, a Ten through to a King, all spades. Rufus raises an eyebrow, and his opponent fakes a double-take at the hand. “Oh my, looks like I missed one …”

He slides a fifth card out, previously tucked behind the King. It’s an Ace. Royal flush.

The crowd breaks their silence and there is chatter all around, and Rufus can’t take his eyes off the cards in front of him. Over his shoulder, Tseng’s eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. Gold Tooth, however, spreads his arms out with a laugh. “Well that’s a wrap, Rufus!” he says loudly, turning the few heads who weren’t already looking in on their game. He lays a heavy hand on the shotgun in the middle of the table and makes a show of admiring it. “I look forward to hanging THIS on my belt!” he declares gleefully, looking around at his two henchmen before pushing himself away from the table. Rufus watches dumbly as he stands up, anger and incredulity effectively muting him. He. Doesn’t. _Lose_.

“You played well, kid,” Gold Tooth says in parting, “But you got a long way to go to beat the likes of me.” He turns his back, shotgun over his shoulder, and tugs the leash in his hand; the dog yelps, but gets to its feet with a scratch of claws. “I look forward to next time, yeah?”

Rufus has yet to look at Tseng, whose eyes are still trailing after the three as they leave the building. After a few moments though he is the first to move, turning slightly and looking down to the blonde where he sits.

“Sir,” he says simply. Rufus is quietly seething, teeth clenched. “We should leave,” he continues. He steps back to give Rufus space to get up, but the young Shinra doesn’t leave before kicking his chair violently on his way out. The petite blonde bartender looks over but Tseng catches her gaze, the Turk telling her with a simple stare not to approach.

Reno and Rude are waiting outside and are instantly at attention when Rufus appears.

“I’ll fill you in later,“ Tseng murmurs as they reconvene. He looks casually over his shoulder, back towards the bar, and nods to himself. “I’m going to leave the three of you to head back together,” Tseng says, fixing both Reno and Rude with a particularly stern look, “I’m _TRUSTING_ you,”

“You’re not coming back with us?” Rude asks. Tseng adjusts his gloves and purses his lips slightly.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he says, and Rude knows not to ask any more.

*** ***

In only two or three years time Tseng’s professionalism will be a thing of legend, stoicism unmatched and attention to detail unrivaled, but for now he is young, and the hour is late, and he doesn’t realise that there are hairs out of place that he hasn’t brushed back yet, or that there is fine blood spray on his cuff that isn’t covered by his jacket. Neither of these things matter much though as the corridors are mercifully empty, and he reaches his destination without encountering another human being. He knocks three times, sharply, and murmurs a “Sir” to announce himself.

Rufus is, of course, still awake when he knocks, and he looks no less seething now than he did three hours ago. The angry outburst he has ready dies on lips when he opens the door though. He registers the man stood before him only a split second before his attention is taken by what said man is carrying.

“Tseng …” he begins, as the Turk holds out his prized shotgun. He doesn’t quite know what to say and takes it numbly, thumb running over the metal as if he doesn’t quite believe it’s real.

“And wait there,” the Turk says. He disappears for just a moment, and when he comes back he deposits a disgruntled black bundle into Rufus’s arms. It’s all bone and sinew and it writhes pathetically for a moment, but seems to settle when Rufus carefully strokes its dark fur. It’s love at first (well, second) sight, and it’s a couple of moments before Rufus looks up again.

“What happened?” he asks. Tseng pulls something out of his pocket and drops them to the floor - five cards, streaked with fresh blood, lie at his feet. They’re all Aces, and each one of them has a black chocobo printed in the corner.

“He cheated,” Tseng says by way of explanation. He fixes Rufus with a hard gaze, and the dog in the blonde’s arm waves its tentacle gently. “You don’t lose.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 20 of Turkstober 2020, Poker Night.
> 
> There is so much symbolism in the ace of spades I just couldn't not. Also does the author get bonus points for not making countless Ace jokes, because the struggle was really, really real.


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